Sometimes mothering a toddler makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.

 

When a day starts off too early (read: no time to blog!), continues with a too-short nap (read: no time to knit, my new hobby), and climaxes with too many pokes at my glasses and pulls at my hair, I wonder when I’ll have two logic thoughts together again.

 

Then I chastise myself for thinking I’d do something for me today, rather than relishing every moment of head-butted “kisses” on the floor. I remind myself that someday, Jacob may not want to give me a random hug or six in the middle of the afternoon. I know that most of what I’d planned for today isn’t really necessary, and time is better spent with my little boy. But then, today turned out so different from yesterday, and then tomorrow will probably turn today on its head. I never know what to expect, and while that’s the challenge, it’s a joy as well.

 

 

Being mama to a toddler means plans always change, your time is rarely, if ever, your own, and it may be four o’clock before you realize you have consumed neither fruit nor vegetable all day.

 

Today I am tired, and a little cranky, and can’t do literary justice to the Montreal Biodome as I’d intended. But today I had the blessing of a day at home with the cutest, giggliest, snuggliest little boy on the planet. And the one definitely outweighs the other.